


know I'm feeling you

by blackkat



Series: Star Wars Smut [17]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Thank God You're Not Dead Sex, half-clothed sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “I told you,” Keeli gets out, ragged, desperate in between bruising kisses, and Mace can't even catch his breath as he’s shoved up against the wall of the ship, pinned there by grasping hands.
Relationships: Keeli/Mace Windu
Series: Star Wars Smut [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675714
Comments: 8
Kudos: 272
Collections: Commander Keeli





	know I'm feeling you

“I _told_ you,” Keeli gets out, ragged, desperate in between bruising kisses, and Mace can't even catch his breath as he’s shoved up against the wall of the ship, pinned there by grasping hands. Hauls Keeli in, hands fisted in ripped thermals but careful of the bruises underneath.

“You did,” he manages, and there's a mouth against his throat, hands at his breeches. Mace can't keep his hands off skin either, hauls Keeli close, drags his mouth back up when Keeli bites at his throat. Keeli comes with a sound that’s relief just barely covered by fury, and he kisses Mace hard, wraps an arm around his neck and drags his mouth away.

“Told you it was a kriffing _trap_ ,” he says, and Mace would answer except that Keeli hauls him down, goes down with him, and they tumble to the hard deck, a tangle of limbs that Mace only just manages to stop from being a complete collapse. He catches himself, elbow braced beside Keeli's head, knees on either side of Keeli's hips, and Keeli doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t seem to care that Dooku _beat him_ and lying like that can't be comfortable. He just drags Mace in, kisses him with a fervor Mace has never felt in any partner before, and—it’s addictive. Mace could lose himself entirely in it, and regret nothing.

“Dooku _took_ you,” he says, low, and—it’s not a victory. Dooku was a tragedy, twisted and fallen, but—he won. He did what he couldn’t in the arena on Geonosis, put down an old friend who’d gone mad with the darkness, and saved the one man he’s ever felt this for. “I could save you, so I did.”

Keeli's laugh is rough and raw, and Mace pulls at his shoulders, rolls, and Keeli rolls with him. He sprawls on top of Mace, hitching his breeches down with a hard pull, then shoving his tunics open, and Keeli's still in the bottom half of his armor, only the top part stripped from him, but Mace hooks a leg around his waist and pulls him in closer.

Keeli lets out a ragged breath against his ear, and he rolls his hips hard against Mace's, jars a gasp from Mace's throat as unforgiving armor presses against his hardening shaft. Keeli groans, too, bites at Mace's collarbone and says roughly, “Last chance to take the lead.”

Mace snorts, reaching down to unclasp Keeli's codpiece. It falls away, and he deliberately sets it aside, then meets Keeli's dark eyes and says, “Keeli, the very last thing I want to do right now is give orders.”

Keeli's breath rasps, and he leans over Mace, watching him for a long moment. Mace is too aware of the pulse of desire in him, the shuddering heat that’s curling up his spine, and he can't tell how much of it is his own, can't breathe through it without wanting to drown.

“Orders, huh?” Keeli asks, and closes his eyes for half a second before they're sliding open again, full of dark intent. “Here’s an order for you. Open yourself up for me.”

Mace tips his head back, swallowing a groan. Controls the urge to shudder, and asks, “Slick?”

“Bacta works, right?” There’s a wry note to Keeli's voice, droll amusement, because they’ve never managed to make it to an actual bed in all their time doing this, but—they know how to manage by now, and Mace has high hopes for the future. He offers a hand, and Keeli searches through Mace's belt pouches for a moment, then comes up with the tube. Opens it, smearing it thickly across Mace's fingers, then sits back on his knees between Mace's thighs.

The look on his face makes Mace heartbeat trip, and he moans, sliding a hand down between his legs. He’s fully hard now, and it’s tempting to stroke himself, but he doesn’t. just spreads his legs as best he can and presses two fingers into himself. The stretch is sharp; it’s been a while, and they’re rushing, but the curse Keeli mutters is worth it, and Mace breathes out, tips his head back. relaxes consciously, easing muscles and tension, and slides a third in a moment later with a groan.

“Kriff,” Keeli breathes, and leans forward like he can’t physically resist. He kisses Mace's chest, closes a hand around his cock, and when Mace gasps and rocks up into his hand, he makes a low, sharp sound. “No. Focus.”

Mace closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. Works his fingers inside himself as Keeli drags featherlight fingers up and down his cock, and manages, “ _Keeli_.”

Keeli groans, fumbling with his blacks. “Good?” he asks breathlessly, and Mace gladly slides his fingers out of himself and reaches for Keeli's cock. Slicks him with that’s left of the bacta on his fingers, and Keeli curls over him, kisses him hard, and orders, “Legs around me.”

Mace obeys, and the scrape of _kama_ and armor against his thighs drags a groan from him. Keeli grips his leg, hitching it up, and kisses Mace's chest, lines himself up. The press of the thick head against Mace's hole is uncomfortable for a moment, too much stretch with too little preparation, but Mace tightens his legs, hauls Keeli closer, and with a cry Keeli sinks into him. The heat and pressure are winding, and Mace can't help but clutch at Keeli's arms as he slides in, one long, slow thrust like he’s trying to make sure Mace feels every inch of him.

With a desperate sound, Keeli curls over him, burying his face in Mace's chest, gripping his hips. Stays there, armor pressed flush to Mace's ass, breath gusting hot across his skin. He shudders, fingers digging bruises into Mace's skin, but Mace can't think of anything beyond the heat and weight and press of Keeli inside him, so deep, so _present_ that Mace is sure he’ll never lose this feeling.

“Keeli,” he manages, and Keeli moans, presses a messy kiss to his chest. He’s too short to kiss when they're like this without a lot of contortion, but Mace curls a hand around the back of his skull, desperate for him, but content. He could lie here for hours with Keeli buried in him, with Keeli sprawled on top of him, and feel nothing but that low, slow burn of pleasure building as he did.

“Karking hell,” Keeli says, ragged, and draws back, a slow slide that sparks heat through Mace's nerves. Then all at once he drives forward, armor slapping Mace's hips as he buries himself deep again, and Mace can't stop the sound that jars from his throat. He puts a hand up—

Keeli catches his wrist, drags it down and pins it to the decking. “No,” he says, almost a growl, and thrusts again, twisting pleasure up Mace's spine. “Let me—want to hear it.”

They're alone on the ship, with hours still to go until they reach friendly territory. Hours alone, uninterrupted, and—

Well. Maybe for the second round, they’ll actually make it to a bed.

“Anything,” Mace says, and Keeli slides his hand up, twists their fingers together and hangs on as he thrusts. Mace doesn’t bother to strangle his cry as Keeli fucks him, just wraps his legs around Keeli's hips and urges him on harder. He can feel Keeli's breath on his skin, a wild heartbeat against his own, the desperate clutch of Keeli's hands, and he burns the feeling into his memory, refusing to let go.


End file.
